Randolph Lalonde - Spinward Fringe Broadcast 08 - Renegades

by Randolph Lalonde

  “Forget it,” Alice spat. “I don’t want charity from someone who can’t control a bunch of refugees sitting around a table!” She whirled around and rushed from the room.

  She didn’t realize that Ayan followed her until she heard her call out, “Alice!” and Alice stopped dead in her tracks, right in the middle of the upper level concourse. Dozens of people looked at her from walkways above and below.

  Ayan caught up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but Senior Commander Anderson and I are both only doing what’s best for you. If we didn’t care, we’d use you as a scapegoat for this whole thing.”

  Alice tried to suppress her tears and stand up straight, to look strong. “I know,” she managed, even though she still wasn’t sure. She was still furious and grief-stricken for all that she’d lose. “You must be so-“

  “Angry?” Ayan said as she embraced Alice. “No. I wish you did things differently, I won’t lie, but I also wish we could keep you here and help you realize your potential.”

  She was sure Ayan was disappointed in her; Alice was one of the first Rangers. Ayan was not someone she expected compassion from, especially after the woman turned away from her father with little explanation, devastating him. Alice let herself be held. The smell of Tonka bean, a product of the nearby jungle, was in Ayan’s red hair. The warm fragrance was calming, crying was easier, and she let it happen for a moment before trying to recover her composure. “You’re going to join the Warlord,” Ayan whispered. “And I want you to redo the Phase Two training in your downtime, but do it for yourself. Maybe you won’t even want back into the Rangers after you’re done, but you’ll know you could go if you want to.”

  “Why are you being so nice?” Alice asked before she realized she was saying it aloud.

  “You remind me of myself when I was younger,” Ayan replied.

  “But you never failed,” Alice replied, stepping back to arm’s length and wiping her tears away.

  “I did,” Ayan replied. “But I knew how to hide it behind bigger successes. I would have been a better person sooner if I failed publicly once or twice. Now, don’t let this get to your heart. You served, and we appreciate it – even if it doesn’t seem like it now – and you’ve done good things. You just have more learning to do, and you’re not the only one.”

  “Thank you,” Alice said as she turned away. “Thank you so much.”

  “Alice?”

  “Yeah?” Alice asked, half turning.

  “You’re going to be amazing, just take your time,” Ayan said with a warm smile.

  CHAPTER 17

  Pondering Escalation

  The corridors of the Warlord were filled with activity as post-combat repairs were underway. Minh-Chu passed by many of the shipwright team members the British Alliance had contracted out to Jake, and not one of them looked pleased about the combat situation they’d just survived. They weren’t told they would be going into combat – in fact it was in their contract that they wouldn’t be put into a combat situation. Minh knew Jacob didn’t care much since they would be leaving the ship as soon as they arrived back in the Rega Gain System. It was a deeply selfish attitude, and Minh-Chu didn’t agree with him, but it would mean the Warlord would be in top condition when they had to find crewmembers to replace the shipwright team.

  The Warlord had taken no casualties, and from Minh-Chu’s perspective, they’d scored a major win. The combat had been close, and frightening to anyone who hadn’t been in that kind of situation before. The few regular members of the Warlord crew were used to going into the fight in ships that weren’t nearly as well armoured, so they were all smiles.

  The Torano commanders were smarter than anyone expected. The first thing they did after taking damage from one of the Warlord’s big munitions launchers was drop their cargo train and close in. Two thirds of the Warlord’s munitions were immediately rendered useless. Letting loose with most of their weaponry at close range meant that the Warlord would share in whatever punishment it dealt, and Captain Jacob Valent wasn’t that desperate.

  On the other hand, the beam weaponry on the Torano was many times more effective up close, and they were a match for the Warlord’s manoeuvrability and speed, being a high-end hauler herself. She also had an extra layer of armour that wasn’t made public. With many of the Warlord’s weapons taken out of the situation, it was almost an even fight. Jake Valent’s ship was also missing her best pilot.

  Minh-Chu finally arrived in his quarters, let his suit verify that the compartment was intact, then removed his helmet. “Honey, I’m home,” he said quietly. At the sound of the trigger, a portrait appeared above the double bed. The three metre wide playback featured Ashley Lamport lounging on the beach during one of Tamber’s gold and violet sunsets. She was wearing a holographic bikini that covered her intimates with lily petals. She had no idea he was there when he recorded her as she softly hummed a melody he didn’t recognize. “Selfish of me to make the wish,” he said, “but I wish you were here. Feels like half my energy is gone when you’re not around.”

  The wall animation moved around the room as he turned around and sat on the bed. Ashley was still in the Rega Gain System, helping Panloo train new pilots and bridge staff for the Triton. She’d been at it for months. It had been over seven weeks since he’d seen her.

  He let himself fall back on the old mattress and closed his eyes. “I just need a minute,” he sighed, starting to slow his breathing. “One minute and I’ll have a clear head.” Minh-Chu breathed deeper, began relaxing his muscles starting with his forehead and worked his way down. He’d see Ashley soon, within a day or two. He accepted the notion, and let it go. Memories of the most recent firefight came back in pieces: Joyboy serving well, Singe taking care of small details as he worked on the bigger decisions, destroying two shuttles that people put many, many hours of work into. He thought about the people on those shuttles, and the quick deaths of one of their crews. Before the thoughts and memories piled up too high, he thought of them as separate pieces that informed his state of mind. One by one, he accepted each occurrence – the good and the bad – and let them go. Two thoughts were harder than all the rest, and when everything else cleared, he was left with the reality that Jacob Valent had jettisoned a man who had signed onto the crew of the Warlord in good faith. Whether he was to be treated as a hostage, or the fact that he wouldn’t have made a particularly good crewman, didn’t matter.

  He also couldn’t let go of how close the early fighting was to the space station. The station’s shields were most likely strong around habitat areas, but that wasn’t something you could trust on a drift base that was hacked together using inconsistent technology and materials.

  It took some effort, but he was able to let go of that, knowing that their firefight with the shuttles hadn’t disrupted sensitive areas of the station, no innocent lives were lost. He could not let go of the idea of a man adrift in the most basic of safety gear. Someone would most likely pick him up, but what then? Would he become a slave? Get dumped on the station with nothing to his name?

  “Fine,” Minh-Chu said to himself, sitting up. He stood, straightened his new armoured pilot’s jacket, checked his sidearm holster, and left his quarters for the bridge.

  The corridor leading there was one of the only quiet places on the ship. The bridge was well protected, as was the main set of corridors leading down the length of the vessel. The primary interior of the Warlord had taken no damage; she was built to face ships three classes above her. The repair crews were concentrating on the outer sections, closer to the outer hull, where less critical systems took mostly heat damage.

  The heavy bridge hatch opened at Minh-Chu’s approach and his gaze fell on the empty command seat at the centre, then found Jake Valent at the pilot controls. They were accelerating inside a wormhole, and Jake was checking on the status of the ship from the pilot station while the autopilot worked its magic. “Good hunting out there,” Captain Val
ent said, not looking up from a structural hologram of the Warlord. Only the first car in the cargo train trailing behind it was visible in the image. Agameg and two other newer crewmen manned the bridge.

  Minh-Chu sat down in the command seat and swivelled towards Jake, who spared him an amused glance, one eyebrow raised. “You have the conn?”

  “Just seeing what the view is like from here,” Minh-Chu said, standing up and sitting down on the single step leading up to the command chair instead. “So, interesting compromise with your hostage,” he said.

  “He woke up,” Jake said, “and the Torano wasn’t cooperating.”

  “No reason to airlock him,” Minh-Chu replied.

  “He was annoying and I needed to prove my resolve to the Torano,” Jake replied, giving Minh-Chu his full attention. “You reviewed the combat log while you were waiting to land, so you know it worked.”

  It was true. The Torano dropped their cargo train shortly after, and turned to fight the Warlord. “This is just showing me an escalation, and I’m wondering if we’re near the end or at the beginning.”

  “An escalation of what?” Jake asked.

  “An escalation in brutality,” Minh-Chu replied. “I also couldn’t help noticing a few things you and Frost picked up on Urris that have me wondering.” No one else on the bridge so much as looked at either of them, but they listened closely.

  “All right, here’s the rest of the story behind our privateering contract. The clause they didn’t write in was simple: scare the hell out of the enemy. Take whatever we want, break the laws of engagement, make a lot of noise, but above all else: shake the enemy up so hard that people start thinking twice about signing up. You know how big the Order has been getting since they dropped the cash requirement last month. We play this light-handed, and the British Alliance might start reconsidering some of the luxuries they’ve been giving us.”

  “I’m guessing they’d rather you keep those details to yourself?” Minh-Chu asked.

  “Maybe, but they never said it. That’s why I’m talking all about it in front of a few crewmembers who will probably share the details when they leave us in a couple of days.” Agameg’s neck straightened and his eyes snapped to a perfectly round shape as he regarded Jake and Minh-Chu. Jake smiled at him and shook his head slightly. “I mean the British members of the crew. They’re at the end of their term here.” Agameg looked to the British Alliance crewmen and relaxed. “I’m relieved. My work on the Warlord is highly rewarding, and I have to admit to being amused when we were ordered to jettison our hostage. I do share some of Ronin’s concerns, in retrospect,” Agameg replied.

  The British Alliance crewmembers were continuing their duties as though the conversation wasn’t happening, their stiff upper lips in full evidence. They were ship builders and experienced repair crew, not privateers, and the people on the bridge didn’t have to say a word about their disapproval of the last engagement.

  “I don’t know how far I’ll have to go,” Jake said. “But we need to build a reputation big enough so the British Alliance sees some fear coming from the enemy. I’ll make sure people know that whatever brutalities I’m blamed for are part of our privateering deal though, call it an insurance policy.”

  “Be careful, Jake,” Minh-Chu said. “I’m not worried about the British pulling our license, but I don’t want this crew to slide too far down on the humanitarian scale.”

  “You mean you don’t want me to slide down,” Jake replied.

  “Same thing.”

  “I get it. You know I’m listening.”

  “I know,” Minh-Chu said. “As long as this fear campaign is good for the war, and it doesn’t come to attacking bystanders, I’m good. That’s my line. I don’t want to see innocent blood, and I think it would break this crew if we did.” He realized it was the truth as he said it. Their hostage was nearly an innocent if he was as foolish as everyone seemed to think he was, and that was why Minh-Chu had a problem with how he departed the ship.

  “I know. Our scanners did confirm that a rescue shuttle from the station was on its way to pick him up, though. He can probably work off the bill in about two days if he’s low on credit.”

  “Good to know. So, I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering, but how did we do?”

  “Well, that shielded compartment that read heavy on the biological chart is definitely not carrying slaves. Not unless they’re three inches long and there are a few million. We can’t check it during transit, but all the seals are good. Other than that, the shielding is so heavy, I can’t get an image.”

  “Could it be some kind of bug farm?” Agameg asked. “I’ve seen many production systems that depend on insects.”

  “I’m guessing, but we’ll have to wait until we come out of the wormhole near the Rega Gain System,” Jake replied. “As for the rest, we got really lucky here. There’s heavy machinery made for high gravity environments, twelve hundred various sized materializers and replacement parts for them, and a few containers of small, heavy duty construction bots.”

  “Construction bots?” Agameg asked.

  “Yup, too heavy duty for materializers to produce and still in the package. There’s also a vault car, just like our intelligence said. Can’t scan inside that either, but from the mass, we’ve intercepted a major cash collection, probably meant to fulfil some kind of payday or major purchase for the Order. Seeing their cargo, I understand why they had a hauler like the Torano take the job. She had good security, was armed to the teeth, and her command crew knew how to take us.”

  “Those uglies were no pushovers either,” Minh-Chu said. “I’d say they weren’t junk yard uglies at all, but custom jobs. Small gunships.”

  “Figures we’d luck into a big find, but a hard target.”

  “Sir,” addressed one of the British Alliance ensigns. He was so young it was strange seeing him at one of the engineering stations.

  “Yes, Ensign?” Jake replied. “Speak freely.”

  “With respect, I’d like to ask: was there ever a chance that the Warlord would lose this engagement?”

  Jake’s response came through a cocked smile. “There’s always a chance, but in this case, there wasn’t much of one. The Torano had us at close range, I’ll concede that point, but she depended on beam weapons, on her power plants keeping her capacitor arrays charged. While they were spending energy, we were accumulating it through our shields and hull. If we didn’t get a chance to break away from her and fire our main weapons from a distance, we would have been able to outlast the Torano. It was just a matter of time, but when the enemy does not want to be taken, they’ll do anything to keep that from happening.”

  “Thank you, Sir, that makes sense, Sir,” replied the Ensign.

  Jake turned his attention to Minh-Chu. “Next time, we use your plan and some of our more developed leads. Less work, more scanning, and a better chance at a softer target.”

  “Sounds good to me. What’s our ETA for Rega Gain?”

  “About twenty-one hours.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Looking Back, Walking Forward

  Ayan stood in her simple quarters, alone in her living room. The space was lit only by the light of a hologram that encircled her at arm’s length. The words “Follow your instincts, they've never been better,” drifted large behind all the crew records, incident reports, video playbacks, and comments rotating around her.

  Her time with the Victory Machine had given her so much to ponder, but examining the information too much could provide an equal amount to worry over. She examined the pieces slowly, turning as though in orbit, while she held the latest item in her hand – the report from the Rangers about the last enemy outpost on Tamber being destroyed.

  The information she’d gained from the Victory Machine didn’t directly reference the event, but something told her that it signified the true end to the Battle of Port Rush, which certainly was significant to the Victory Machine’s predictions. With some uncertainty, she hung it in the air besi
de their departure from Port Rush, but changed her mind a moment later and moved it beside Jacob Valent’s confrontation with Hampon. “The Victory Machine said a direct confrontation with Hampon would change Jake forever. I wish I knew how,” Ayan said to herself.

  She caught a glimpse of a recording of Alice running across the Port Rush battlefield and smiled. She truly was the rogue element, and not just to the Victory Machine. The young woman had not only discovered a major problem with the Ando Four model Androids, but uncovered the original wildlife nurseries from the first terraformers who settled on Tamber. There really was no way of predicting where Alice would end up. Ayan liked her, and hoped she would have the chance to get to know her better in the future.

  “I don’t think I have to be afraid of getting close to either of the Valents anymore,” she said, her attention shifting to a recording of Jacob Valent boarding the Warlord almost two months before. He’d been gone a long time, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d learned in that time, what his small crew had accomplished. She was secure in her belief that she’d outlived the Victory Machine’s advice to stay away, and still regretted following its advice to break off her relationship with Jacob Valent for a while. Ayan still thought of that day on the bridge of the Warlord, where what should have been an intimate farewell turned into a bad breakup.

  “Not this again,” Lacey said as she walked in. Iloona and Victor were behind her. “I’m sure you could find a fortune teller in Port Rush who could predict things half as well. Even I can guess that you’ll have a daughter and a son sometime in the next few years. With your maternal instincts and child bearing hips, it would be strange if you didn’t.”